Concrete And Stone
by ladydelirium
Summary: oneshot SpikexAngel. Angelus could get away with things Angel couldn't.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine

**Warning: **Here there be slash. Warning for boy!sex, a bit of violence and a couple of F-words. If such things offend you run away now.

**Notes: **My first time writing in this fandom, so "Hi new fandom!" This is set in season four of Buffy, not that it really matters. Anyway read and review, even if it's to tell me I suck.

**Concrete And Stone**

He's not hard to find. If you know him well enough he never is, it wouldn't have taken long even if he hadn't known exactly where to look. It's not like Spike even tries to live anonymously. But there he is, in a damp little crypt in Sunnydale, sitting on a decrepit couch and drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle. Never did have much of a taste for the finer things in life, not really. He watches through the window for a solid twenty minutes, Spike remains oblivious the whole time. He only leaves the couch to go to the fridge returning with a bottle of blood. Pigs blood. He can smell from outside, he's used to it after all. Spike looks at it with disgust, this makes him smirk, Spike's going to have to get used to it, he did.

xxx

He walks to the door silently, not so much as disturbing the foliage surrounding the small stone building. He pressed his hand against the door. It felt cold and smooth, a little wet. He traces a crack in the concrete. Small green leaves are growing out of it. Even cold lifeless things are able to preserve the living. He smiles and it's a little darker than usual. Whether they do or not is another story entirely, one in which he's been playing the lead.

xxx

There's something freeing about not having ot be invited to enter. He's become much too accustom to it lately, not that he has much of a choice but these days he does it out of courtesy as well necessity. Now he can just waltz inside, after all the man who lives here is long dead. Just like he is himself.

xxx

Spike looks shocked when he sees him. He drops the bottle he'd been holding, leaping to his feet. Obviously preparing for a fight. This makes him laugh which surprises Spike even more.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He ignores the question and just saunters further into the room, looking around nonchalantly, as if taking in the room to offer an appraisal. Completely ignoring the white-haired vampire.

"Hey!" Spike's right in front of him now, glaring. "What do you want, you sodding great ponce?" He moves suddenly, his fist coming out of nowhere to connect with Spike's face, knocking him back against the couch. He turns to glare at the younger vampire.

"Don't you talk to me like that, boy." Spike looks up at him, a thousand emotions flying over his face.

"_Angelus_?"

xxx

He can't help but grin at that. Spike was watching him apprehensively, hand held to his bloody lip. More than likely thinking about the last time they'd seen each other. That would explain why he looked a little fearful. Angelus wasn't a fan of betrayal, well not unless he was the betrayer. Having one of his own turn against him and help the slayer of all people, well that could be seen as the ultimate insult. But he wasn't too concerned with that now. He had more pressing things on his mind.

Spike looks wary of him as he approaches, like he's debating fight or flight. Laughing again he moves so Spike's trapped between his body and the couch.

"Relax." He says, voice full of amusement but there's an edge to it, something sharp lurking beneath the humor.

"Look, mate, about last time -" What was undoubtedly Spike's attempt at an excuse is cut off abruptly.

"I don't want to here it." His fingers wrap around Spike's wrist, pinning it against his side. Their faces so close they're almost touching. He snakes his tongue out to taste Spike's blood, hears Spike hiss slightly.

"That was then. Let's focus on now, shall we?" His grip on Spike's wrists tightens and Spike smirks slightly.

xxx

He grabs Spike by the throat, slamming him against the wall. Spike makes a small moaning sound but struggles against him, fingers trying to pry the hands from around his neck. He feels Spike writhing against him as he presses their lips together in a kiss that would bruise a human. Spike tastes like blood and cigarettes with a hint of whiskey. Despite the struggling it's obvious that Spike's enjoying this, the evidence is digging into his leg. He releases his grip on Spike's throat, his hands moving to pull off the black t-shirt, throwing it to the floor. It's soon joined by his own and his hands are running over every inch of Spike's chest and Spike's digging his nails into his back hard enough to draw blood. That's it, he needs release and he needs it now. He easily flips Spike around so he's pushed face first into the wall. One hand moves to twist one of Spike's arms behind his back hard. The other frees them both of pants, he's not surprised by Spike's lack of underwear. He positioned himself against Spike's entrance, quickly spitting on his hand and lubing up. He thrust in hard, Spike groans loudly.

"Ah, fuck.."

"That would be the idea." He replied sarcastically, wrapping a hand around Spike's cock, causing a quick intake of breath that Spike didn't even need. He pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in forcefully with a growl. His fist moved against Spike's dick in time with his thrusts. He's close to coming, he can feel years of unresolved sexual frustration building up. He rests his head against the back of Spike's neck, nipping at the cold flesh. Spike throws his head back, exposing more of his neck, baring his throat. His tongue traces the muscles in Spike's neck and coming to rest where the pulse should be. One more thrust and he comes hard, sinking his teeth into Spike's neck. Spike cries out, coming right after him, all over his hand and the wall.

xxx

Spike slides to the ground, he searches through the pockets of his discarded pants and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a zippo. He lights one and leans back against the wall.

"Fuck." He murmurs."So what the hell happened? How'd you lose the soul this time?" Ignoring this he finishes getting dressed, pulling on his black leather duster and heading for the door. Spike jumps to his feet and follows, despite still being naked.

"Hey, where the bloody hell are you going?" With a sigh he turns around to look at Spike, he can't help feeling a little guilty. Spike studies his face.

"You didn't lose the soul, did you?" He says quietly. Angel shakes his head, he can't meet Spike's eyes. "Why?"

He doesn't answer, just looks at Spike one last time before walking quickly out the door. Spike doesn't follow him.

xxx

He has a lot of time to think about it on the drive back to LA. The truth is that just because Angelus is safely locked up in the back of his mind doesn't mean that he doesn't feel him there. He does all the time and lately he's been stronger than usual. Angel refuses to give him most of the things he wants but he thought giving him something might shut him up for a while. And besides, Angelus can get away with doing things Angel never could. Angelus is allowed to wants things Angel can never have.


End file.
